


There Is No Sweeter Innocence

by sequence_fairy



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-06 23:43:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6775012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are, neither of them, going to regret this in the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Is No Sweeter Innocence

**Author's Note:**

> For [Mizulily](http://mizulily.tumblr.com) who requested that her cinnamon children sin, and also that it be with angst.

Downstairs in the ballroom, the reception is starting to wind down - the happy couple has taken off for their honeymoon and all that’s left are the stragglers.

Inoue’d dragged him out of the hall as soon as the newly christened Kurosakis had left to cheers and applause. She’d backed him up against the elevator wall, hands everywhere and her mouth on his. As kisses go, it’s not the nicest one Ishida’s ever had, given that Inoue is trying to devour him lips first. She’s all teeth and nails, tugging his shirt up out of his pants so her hands can find his skin.

The first touch of her hands across his stomach drives him out of reaction and into action. He pushes back against her mouth, and she let’s him take the lead. Her back hits the other side of the elevator, and he cages her in with his hands on either side of her head. She arches into him, and Ishida hisses in a breath, breaking the kiss.

Inoue whimpers and the sound goes through him like a lance. “Inoue – Orihime,” he pants, as she fumbles with his belt and buries her face in his chest. “What are we doing?”

“Shut up Ishida,” Orihime snarls. The sound of it is unfamiliar enough on her lips to startle him into looking into her eyes. They are fever-bright. “Shut up and kiss me.”

“Is this really how you want to do this?”

“You talk too much,” Orihime says, shutting him up with her mouth on his. This time, the kiss softens as it goes on. When the elevator dings, they don’t spring apart like guilty children, just gently separate, both of them breathing hard.

Orihime takes his hand. Ishida can do nothing but follow in her wake.

Once in the room - because of course this is where this was headed - Ishida should have known from the start. The wedding, the drinks (he’s had a few, he _knows_ Orihime had a number), christ - _the wedding_. He loses his train of thought when Orihime strips off the lavender dress that clung in all the right places and advances on him from the doorway.

He backs up ‘til the backs of his knees hit the bed and then she plants a hand in the centre of his chest and pushes. He goes down without a fight, and she follows him, straddling his hips. He can feel the heat of her through the layers of his clothes.

“Orihime,” he says, because he needs to make absolutely sure that this is what she wants, because if she’s only doing this because Kurosaki finally made an honest woman out of Rukia, he doesn’t want any part of it. He’ll take all of Orihime or he’ll take none of her. “Are you sure?”

“Thought I told you that you talk too much,” Orihime says, voice dropping to a velvet purr that does nothing for his self-control. He groans when she presses her hips into his, and the careful restraint he’s been cultivating snaps in a flurry of movement.

He rolls them, so she’s on her back beneath him. “You’re wearing too many clothes Uyruu,” Orihime says, and Uryuu grins.

“Guess you’ll have to help me out with that then.”

Orihime does.

They get him out of his clothes - jacket, tie, waistcoat, shirt, pants, shoes and socks (damn formal wear) - and her out of the rest of hers - except the heels, he makes her keep the heels on and he is not going to spend any time thinking about why - and then he’s got his hands on her skin, and there’s no other thoughts in his head.

Her skin is soft and warm and her hair spreads around her head like a red halo. She flushes all the way down to her chest, and if Uryuu could only hear one thing for the rest of his life it’d be the way she moans his name when his hand dips into the wet heat of her centre. She’s everything he ever imagined and then so much better than he could have possibly imagined.

“Come on Uryuu,” she begs, and she tosses her head. The hairpins holding her bangs back glitter in the ambient light of the hotel room. Her hands are around him, and she presses open-mouthed kisses to the skin across his collarbones.

He checks one more time, because there is no coming back from this and he couldn’t bear it if she decided tomorrow that this was never going to happen again. Orihime smiles at him, soft and sweet, and says yes again, and he slides home.

The clutch of her around him would have weakened his knees had he been standing, and as it is, he needs a moment before he can move. She hooks her ankles around the backs of his thighs and he can feel the heels of her shoes digging into his skin. They move together, sloppy rhythm evening out into a race towards the end.

When she comes, she bites down on his shoulder, his name muffled by his own skin. Uryuu comes with the smell of her hair in his nose and the feel of her arms wrapped around him.

In the afterward, Uryuu knows that this is not the beginning. It was always inevitable that they would end up here - but he decides that for as long as she’ll have him, he’ll stay. Orihime sleeps beside him, her face smooth, worries chased away by her dreams. He smooths the hair back from her forehead and she mumbles something unintelligible and snuggles closer to him.


End file.
